2.45am

Sorry, Dave Gahan, I must plagiarise.....

I give in to sin because you have to make this life liveable
But I'll make it all worthwhile.

I'll make your heart smile.

Old people and trainers

Why? Why why why do old women insist on wearing trainers, and, as I saw one this morning, a baseball cap?? Now I know that I perhaps don't dress for my "age" (what the fuck are nearly 40 year olds s'posed to wear? A-line skirts and wedges....? Well, I do...lol) - admittedly I wear my hair in bunches, but it doesn't seem wrong. Not to me, anyhow. But really - old people and baseball caps? And what possesses them to get a pair of Nike Shox? Is it 'cos in our heads we all still think we're 18? Did trainers and baseball caps exist in this country when they were young? I don't think they existed when I was young! So it's not like they're harking back to their youths... And they can't want to look like a scally, can they? Can they? Surely they have mirrors? I know it sounds harsh, but they'd look so much better in a nice sun hat, and nice shoes - there are shops that do such things....I know it's a matter of choice but I just want to run up to them and do a Trinny and Susannah on them. I'm all for being a funkster, but it looks like they've been dressed by an 8-year old. Rant over.

Spiders

There. Was. A. Spider. In. My. Caaarrrgh!! Now, I'm borderline arachnaphobic, and to see the it walk right in front of me across the windscreen, on the inside, was enough to make me nearly crash, as I was moving at the time! It ambled up to some sort of gap, and kept popping out from time to time. It could be laying its horrible eggs in there for all I know…what if loads of them come out one day??? Eurchhhhhh!!! How do I get rid of it?? I can't touch it, so I'm pretty stuck. It did remind me of the time I climbed out of the passenger window of a car in which a wasp decided to join me. I was in the driver's seat at the time. I'd hit a gate with the passenger side of the car, and as such the door wouldn't open. It was buzzing around the driver's side, so my only option was the passenger window. I must have emerged like a magician's assistant emerging from a Houdini-type box. Only hysterical. It must have looked hysterical, too. I wasn't laughing

Pies

I was watching England play football one night in Estonia, and saw a "Pukka Pies" ad up round the ground. Which country eats pies except the UK? Which country's got an obesity problem? So, we're in the wrong part of the hemisphere to grow mediterranean vegetables - so we're not like the Italians or the French, we haven't (historically) grown the veg and the olives (for oil) that will benefit us. So what do we do? Stick everything in fucking pastry. And do you know what a commercial pie manufacturer is doing? Mediterranean PIES!!! Oxymoron!! Or just moronic! Cornflake pie, anyone? And do you know what I saw on " The Great British Menu"? Fucking rabbit and crayfish pie. Together. Hello, anyone, want a stodgy pastry kill-your-heart stuffed with a cuddly, fluffy animal and something that thinks it's a lobster?? Bleurgh. Ok. Historically it was peasant's food. But why do we have to put pastry around everthing, and why is that innately British? I haven't eaten anything vaguely pie-y for years. Wouldn't cross my mind. But then when I drive round daily, I see "workmen", pies in hand, at lunchtime. WHY??????????????????????????? What the fuck do pies offer? Perhaps it's a girl thing. I just don't see the point. And I'm gutted that it's our nation's food.Sums us up. Stodgy. Slow. Difficult to digest. A danger to your health

The New Adult

The New Adult Being – YOUNG – Is not just a case of not having to rub in Two hundred and fifty Grams Of wrinkle-remover before you go to bed. Oh no. It’s being Just the right age to feel comfortable in pubs Getting smashed out of your head And not looking like some stupid kid And not looking like some old swinger. It’s swigging lagers And dragging on Marlboros It’s listening to John Peel And digging the scene, man. It’s heady days Immoral ways It’s still freaking to The Smiths in the Ritz. And everything’s legal when you’re 21. ‘Cept acid… In fact, no – happy times – to remember Just blackouts in the Hacienda. And the dipsomanic urge of Never Reaching 22.

Thaw

Thaw Tuesday. It was a Tuesday that merged into a Wednesday Speaking as we’d never spoken before Acting as we’d never acted before Together, as never before. I could not believe That in such a short space of time I would know someone so well. Having only ever spoken in jest Or slightly greeted in passing. Never, ever, any idea of any more. Then, suddenly, walking over And losing consciousness In a world that Made me Melt.

Alarm

Alarm I’ve got a clock That says “tock tock” Not “tick” Which is a bit of a con And my friend’s got one that says, “Isn’t it time you got up now? You lazy cow?”